Destination Love
by coffeemugg
Summary: Josh is reunited with an old friend as he assembles a team of investigators to travel around the world in search of monsters. This is one journey he never intended to take.
1. The One

Authors Note: This is a cheesy fic I started writing a little while ago after reaching an all time infatuation high. I hope you enjoy this chapter. I don't own anyone except Madison Atwood.

**THE ONE**

**Los Angeles**

**10:43pm**

Joshua Gates walked into his small kitchen toward the cupboard over the granite counter and pulled out his favorite purple coffee mug. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the room as he poured the rich, dark beverage into the happily awaiting mug. He smiled diminutively as he plopped in two cubes of sugar and stirred, thinking about the prospect of trekking around the world after cryptids, searching for the truth behind myths and legends. He brought the mug up to his lips and closed his eyes; inhaling the scent before taking a short sip. Of course, his mind was traveling many steps ahead of him. Before he could begin exploring the world with curiosity as his fuel, he needed to assemble a team of professionals to aid in his adventures. He walked back toward the living room where stacks of papers, books, and newspaper clippings occupied the entire coffee table. His laptop hummed quietly amid the heap. Josh took a seat on the couch in front of the table across from the television. He placed the mug on a single unoccupied patch of table and reached for his laptop, placing it on his lap. His blue eyes focused on the screen in front of him and his brows furrowed in concentration.

It feels as though I've read over a thousand profiles in the past 48 hours and I still don't feel like we've found the right person. I've read about established zoologists, successful archeologists and reputable researchers, but alone these qualifications, as respectable as they may be, aren't enough for what we're looking for. Surely my search would soon yield the perfect candidate but until then a cup of coffee is as perfect as I'm going to get.

Just as I'm about to take another sip of perfection a knock on my front door grabs my attention. Slightly thankful for the distraction, I get up to answer it. I check the peephole out of habit and chuckle when I find Bicha standing on the other side, grinning into the peephole with sheets of paper held up next to his face, presumably the reason for his elation. I quickly unlock the door and let him in. He walks past me into my living room and turns back to me.

"I've got it right here."

I walk back to the couch and take a seat, gesturing for him to continue. He's standing in front of me between my TV and a pile of papers resembling a coffee table, beaming excitedly.

"The search is over, my friend. I've found the last piece of our puzzle." He's practically glowing with satisfaction. I'm about to open my mouth to inquire but he cuts me off.

"Listen to this. She is an archeologist with degrees in paleontology, anthropology, sociology, and psychology. She's also done a lot of work as a paranormal investigator and researcher. I mean you name it, she's got it." Bicha is flipping through the sheets of paper as if to emphasize that it is in fact all there. My excitement at this point has far surpassed Bicha's. It's as though this woman has fallen off a cloud of perfection. My eyes are wide. It is almost too good to be true.

"Bicha, that's incredible, I mean that's insane! She's the one. We need her on the team." I say conclusively. Bicha nods enthusiastically in agreement. I stand up.

"Alright well I'll read over her profile tonight and call her tomorrow morning first thing. Man, she's perfect, where did you find her?" We had split the job of reading through profiles between the two of us to cover more ground. He must have had the lucky pile.

"I don't even know, I was just reading through a bunch of profiles and came across hers. Her name is Madison Atwood." Bicha glances at the papers once more to make sure then hands it to me over the coffee table. A sudden surge of recollection rushes through me and I fall back onto the couch immediately, staring at the name on the page. It can't be.

"Josh, you okay?" Bicha is by my side in an instant.

"Madison Atwood?" I pronounce each syllable slowly and deliberately as though unearthing a precious fossil long forgotten. My mind is spinning and I need to hold my head in my hands before it gets a chance to explode with memories.

"You know her?" Bicha has his hand on my shoulder. I lean back against the couch and exhale. My heart rate seems to have tripled in the span of two seconds.

"Yea, uh, we went to University together. We were like best friends." I squint my eyes in an attempt to fight off the impending headache.

"Ah, a blast from the past." Bicha chuckles and sits down beside me. I turn my head solemnly in Bicha's direction.

"This is more like a dropkick from the past, Bicha." I stand up and walk across the room.

"So, what's the story?" Bicha waits patiently for my response as I pace slowly back and forth in front of the TV, brushing the dust and cobwebs off the memories I've tried so hard to lock away. They flood back fiercely, as though seeking vengeance for 7 years of unjust confinement.

We stood together on the sidewalk as the cab driver finished cramming the rest of Madison's luggage into the trunk. There was silence as she looked up at me with her head slightly tilted to the side and her hand on her hip. Her dark hair was up in a high ponytail and it swayed gently in the breeze. A smile slowly made it's way onto her lips and I smiled back as my heart fell to pieces.

I walk to the window to the left of my TV and look out into the darkness as I speak.

"There's not much to say. We met in University, became best friends, completely inseparable. It was the best 4 years of my life," I pause to brace myself, "then she moved to Australia and out of my life." The bitterness in my tone hangs in the air like a thick fog. I turn back to Bicha; he studies me for a moment. I shake my head and shrug.

"It was my fault. I watched her go and didn't say a thing; stood there smiling like an idiot. Four years I'm completely punch-drunk in love with this woman and she has no idea." I run a hand through my short hair.

"So she's the one that got away, huh?"

I chuckle at the tired expression and relax a little, exhaling deeply.

"It was a million years ago. We kept in touch for a few months, but I guess eventually we just drifted too far apart."

"Well that's it then," Bicha says conclusively, leaning back against the couch with a smirk.

"What?"

Bicha leans forward.

"Josh, not only is this woman ridiculously qualified and perfect for the team but she's the one that got away, this is your chance to get her back!"

"Bicha, we haven't spoken in 7 years, she's probably a completely different person; she won't even remember who I am." Every part of me wants to believe the opposite of what I'm saying.

"Well you gotta call her, right?" I look down at the sheets of paper in my hand and my heart starts racing all over again. I do have to call her. Bicha pulls his sleeve back and looks at his watch.

"I better get going, let me know how it goes tomorrow, alright?" He stands up and walks toward the door; I follow slowly, quietly envisioning the many ways in which the phone call will pan out. Bicha turns back to me just as he opens the door.

"Hey Josh, do you believe in fate?"

My thoughts are louder than his words so I only catch the last part.

"What?"

"Maybe it's fate, you and her." His expression is teasingly suggestive.

"Get out of here." I snort and push him out the door jokingly before I turn back to face my empty living room. I look at the sheets of paper in my hand for what feels like the hundredth time. My head throbs dully as I walk back to the couch and sprawl across it, taking in a deep breath. The thought of her seems to have taken the air right out of my lungs and it takes everything I have to get it back. I'd be lying to myself if I said that my thoughts haven't wandered back to her now and again while I sit at home alone. I'd be lying if I said I'd never once contemplated the thought of how different things would have been if I had just made my feelings known. But I've learned to live with the fact that I'd never know. I've accepted reality and hopelessly dismissed the idea of ever seeing her again. I had given up without a fight because I do believe in fate. I believe that everyone is meant for someone, and everything is meant for something. Fate had brought me to that seat in the lecture hall on the first day of school where we met and fate had taken her away from me 4 years later in that taxicab on that mockingly beautiful afternoon. I used to believe that fate worked in black and white; there was no grey area to fight against it or hurry it along. Until now, I've just believed that this is the way it is supposed to be, but lying here with her number in my hand and a head full of bittersweet memories I've come to realize that fate is what you make of it. It will only bring you so far; the rest is up to you. I'm assembling a team to travel around the world in search of monsters and she's the last one we need. I've come face to face with fate's grey area and now I need to take the next step.


	2. The Call

**THE CALL**

**LOS ANGELES**

**8:38AM**

I lie haphazardly on my bed, face down, tangled in my sheets. Sunlight streams through the slits in the blinds and stretches across my bed. I turn over once more in a desperate attempt to find a position comfortable enough to finally fall asleep in, but the idea of calling her is too loud, like a jackhammer in my skull. I breathe in heavily and exhale quickly but it does little to ease the anxiety. I can't take it anymore. In one quick burst of frustration, I snatch the black cordless phone off my bedside table and dial her number. I've read it so many times it's practically etched into my brain. It rings once; my heart rate begins to accelerate. It rings twice; I inhale. Its rings a third time, I exhale. It is only by the fourth ring that I realize it is eight A.M in Los Angeles, making it three A.M the next day in Australia. I gasp and make to hang up when the sound of rustling on the other end of the receiver stops me cold. I quickly bring the phone back to my ear. I hear a faint moan and an excruciatingly familiar voice.

"Hello?" Her voice is tired and breathy. I wince and almost hang up once more, but I force myself to speak.

"Hi, uh, is this Madison Atwood?" My voice cracks and I feel as though I'm twelve years old. I clear my throat, hoping she didn't catch my momentary regression.

"Yes. May I ask who's calling me at 3:00A.M?" She sounds irritated and slightly apprehensive. My heartbeat is now racing so quickly it sounds like a humming in my ears.

"Joshua Gates," I stammer my name and the silence that ensues is almost deafening. Time seems to have stopped; I don't blink, I don't breath. I just wait, frozen. After what feels like a lifetime, I hear her inhale deeply.

"Josh?" Her voice is a mere breathy whisper, a hushed tone of hopeful disbelief. Hearing the sound of her voice say my name with pleasant recognition sends a cold shiver up my spine and I'm instantly covered in goose bumps. I'm quiet for a moment.

"It's me, Maddie." My voice quivers.

"I can't believe it." She sounds out of breath.

"Me either." We exhale in unison. I don't know what else to say.

"You need to come to L.A," I say the words before my mind has time to think them through.

"What?"

We spend the next three hours on the phone reminiscing about the past. We talk about trips we've made, achievements we've accomplished, ex-girlfriends and ex-boyfriends. Everything floods back and I bask in it. I explain everything to her about assembling a team to journey across the globe. About how Bicha came across her profile and declared that she is the last piece of the puzzle. About how much fun it would be. It amazes me how quickly and easily we fall back into the groove of comfort and casual conversation, as though we've never stopped being best friends. I smile as the gap in time diminishes.

"So, what do you say?" I ask after doing my best to convince her it's what she wants to do. There's a minute of silence, but this one seems hopeful.

"Josh, this is crazy, you know that, right?" I smile into the phone and say nothing. There's another moment of silence before her voice emanates through the speaker once more. "Let's do it." I gasp.

"Are you serious?" It takes everything I have to contain my excitement.

"Yes." I hear a smile in her voice and my heart almost stops. I hop off my bed in a fit of joy and I'm 12 again, but this time I don't even care.

"Book the next flight out, Maddie. We have to get started right away." The muscles in my face ache from smiling but all I can do is smile even wider. She chuckles.

"I'm on it."

She promises to e-mail me later on tonight about her flight information and we say goodbye. I get up and walk around my house aimlessly, smiling like a wandering fool. My mind is slowly trying to process the past few hours. It almost seems too good to be true. I finally decide to snap out of my trance and call everybody else to let them know. I grab the phone in my kitchen and dial Bicha's number first. It rings twice before he answers.

"Hello?"

"I called her." I hear him gasp on the other end.

"And?"

"And she's in. She's coming to L.A." I smile to myself, barely believing the words coming out of my mouth.

"Josh, this is perfect. We can start next week. It's finally happening, man." I take in the significance of his words.

"It is."


	3. The Airport

**THE AIRPORT**

**LAX, LOS ANGELES **

**5:26PM**

I hold the door open for an elderly woman wearing a purple cardigan as I walk ahead of her into the airport. She smiles and nods appreciatively at me before disappearing into the bustling crowd. Mike follows close behind as we weave our way through the crowd to a few empty seats by gate 7. I had planned to come pick her up alone but a sudden moment of weakness forced me to ask Mike if he would join me; he's always been a good friend to me. The bright sunlight streams through the floor to ceiling windows, illuminating the entire room. People stand and stare impassively at the giant planes approaching the tarmac and pulling up to the jetways. I take a seat facing the doorway through which Madison is soon to emerge. Mike takes a seat beside me. His beard is scruffy and his hair is deliberately disheveled, classic Mike. I take a deep breath. Mike looks at me over the rim of his sunglasses and smiles before taking them off.

"You nervous?" He asks, hanging his sunglasses off the collar of his shirt. I try to play it cool.

"Why would I be nervous?" He snorts.

"Bicha told me about how she's the one that got away." I silently curse Bicha under my breath. The truth is I'm more nervous than ever. I don't know how I'm going to react when I see her. In some way, we need to bridge the gap of seven years. I guess it's just something I'll have to play by ear, see how it goes. Mike pats my shoulder.

"Look, I read her profile and she sounds amazing. This is going to be a lot of fun but we're professionals too, you know? Don't let emotions get in the way of what we're trying to do," Mike says. I nod. He's right, and I've already thought about it. I've decided that if things get too complicated I'd let her go, however difficult it may be.

"I know. Don't worry, I think things are going to work out just fine. We're just friends." Mike seems to accept this and glances at the doorway where passengers have already begun to appear. He turns back to me.

"So, is she hot?" Now this is the Mike I'm used to. I chuckle and look passed him toward the crowd of passengers.

"She's definitely –" The words stop in my throat as I catch sight of a light blue Star Wars t-shirt and my eyes venture upward toward a heartbreakingly beautiful sun kissed face. "There she is. Blue T-shirt." I stand up in what feels like slow motion; fighting to keep air in my lungs. Mike stands up too and follows my gaze with his eyes. They land on her.

"Whoa," he breathes. She pushes her luggage ahead of her, pausing at the end of the walkway. She looks around with one hand in her pocket and the other on her luggage. I try to pace myself but my eyes want to take all of her in at once. Her faded jeans sit low on her waist, held securely in place with a solid dark brown belt, allowing an inch of toned midriff to peek through alluringly. Her hair is so much longer and darker than it used to be, coming to a stop just above her navel, cascading downward in lose beach waves. My mouth suddenly feels dry and my palms are sticky with sweat. I feel torn; a part of me wants to run away, but every other part of me knows that she's the one I'd run to. I watch for another moment as she searches the crowd for me. Mike nudges my arm encouragingly. I take a step forward, raise my arm, and wave it slowly and ever so slightly. I still can't believe she is standing 40 feet in front of me. I watch her squint through the crowd, panning from right to left before her eyes finally meet mine. Her eyes soften and she smiles, I bring my arm down slowly as a smile crawls its way onto my lips. I'm rooted to the floor and I have yet to blink. We're smiling at each other, soaking each other in from a distance. Mike leans sideways toward me and whispers through the corner of his mouth.

"I think you should walk up to her." I take a deep breath, step forward, and stop. She does the same. I take another step and she follows suit. Then another, and another. I suddenly can't bear the distance and begin to speed walk toward her before breaking into a sprint. Our arms are spread wide as our bodies collide and in an instant we're wrapped in each other. She giggles into my shoulder as I lift her off the floor slightly and twirl around full circle. We sway gently back and forth for a moment before letting go. She smells magnificent. We examine each other up and down, smiling. I start at her eyes; still that same come-get-me blue. I notice a sprinkling of light freckles on the bridge of her nose and her cheekbones that weren't there before; no doubt a result of the Australian sun. Her eyes trace me up and down and I would give anything to know what she's thinking. She is even more beautiful than I remember. She speaks first and her voice is like velvet doused in honey, sweet and smooth.

"You look good, Josh." She's looking up at me with her head slightly tilted to the side and one hand on her hip. The way she says my name makes me melt inside. It's only now that I notice the hint of Australian accent she's adopted.

"You too, Maddie." We continue to smile at each other until I hear Mike clear his throat beside me. I snap out of my trance.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Mike, this is Madison Atwood; Madison this is Mike Morrell, our audio engineer." I motion correspondingly as I say their names. Madison smiles as Mike reaches out to shake her hand.

"It's very nice to meet you," Mike says with a polite smile-nod-shake combo.

"You too, Mike." She says, and for a second I swear I can see Mike's cheeks flush.

"How was the flight?" I ask, trying to remain calm and collected. She sighs.

"Too long, and the guy sitting next to me kept nodding off and flopping over into my seat." We all chuckle and I reach for her luggage cart.

"Well then let's get out of here," I say as I push the cart ahead of me toward the exit. Madison and Mike follow on either side of me as we make our way to my humble, grey Toyota Prius.

After packing her luggage securely into the trunk of my car, we head back toward my house, dropping Mike off at his on the way. The conversation was light and pleasant, focused mainly on anecdotes and jokes about various trips and situations. I stop in front of Mike's house.

"We'll see you tomorrow at Fazzles?" I ask Mike as he steps out.

"Count on it. Bye guys." He closes the door and waves briefly before walking up the path to his front door. Madison turns to me as I begin to drive off.

"Are you sure I can stay at your place? I don't want to impose." I see her looking at me through my peripheral vision. I shake my head and make as if swatting the question away with my hand.

"Don't even worry about it Maddie, it's no problem at all. It'll be like old times." A smile plays on my lips as I sink into the thought. She's quiet for a moment; a contemplative silence.

"Thank you."


	4. Sleep Tight

**SLEEP TIGHT**

**LOS ANGELES**

**6:48Pm**

Gravel crunches under my tires as I pull into my driveway. I turn the car off and pull the key out of the ignition. We look at each other again and smile briefly before getting out. I head for the trunk and pull her luggage out carefully. She waits patiently as I unlock the door and lead her in, placing her luggage in the living room. I watch her take off her brown cowboy boots and look around curiously.

"Your place is beautiful," she says, walking slowly past the couch, running her fingertips along the black leather. I smile. It's essentially just a one floor condo with five steps leading up to the bathroom and bedroom, but I think I've done a decent job of making it home.

"Make yourself comfortable. Did you want something to drink?" I take my shoes off and head toward the kitchen. She's looking at pictures I have propped on my mantle over the fireplace. Pictures I've taken on numerous expeditions around the world.

"Tea please," she replies as she continues her exploration up toward my bedroom and bathroom. I pour water into the kettle and place it on the stove in one fluid motion. I exhale deeply. After seven years of drifting apart I'm making tea for Madison Atwood as she settles in for a night in my house. I almost laugh aloud at how unlikely the situation seems, yet, here I am, right in the middle of it. I couldn't be happier. She appears in my doorway with tired eyes and a warm smile.

"You look tired Maddie, you're taking my bedroom tonight," I say as I pull two mugs out of the cupboard. She immediately shakes her head.

"No way, I'm sleeping on the couch. That's more than good enough," she replies, motioning toward my couch. I reach for the tea bags.

"Like I'd make you sleep on my couch after a 14 hour flight." She yawns wholeheartedly and leans against the doorframe; too tired to protest any further.

"Thank you, Josh." A sharp whistle pierces the air and I quickly shut the stove off. I grab a blue cloth off the counter and pick the kettle up by the handle, carefully pouring the boiling water into both mugs.

"I hope you like Tetley, it's all I have," I say as I bob the tea bag gently up and down in each of the mugs.

"Tetley is perfect," she replies, joining me at the counter. I reach for the honey and our eyes lock as I hand her the jar. She smiles before looking away. I watch as she takes a cautious sip of her tea and her eyes close gently, as though it has hit the spot.

"Let's watch a movie," she suggests, turning to me excitedly. I grab my purple mug off the counter and head toward the living room. I want nothing more than to do just that.

"Sure. You're not too tired?"

"I think I can hack it," she replies as we venture toward the couch across from the T.V. I motion toward my movie collection to the left of the screen.

"Pick any one you want." I watch her skim each title, dismissing them quickly as if looking for a particular one. Her eyes light up suddenly.

"Yes! I knew you had it." She pulls it out and heads for my DVD player, placing it gently in the tray. I try to get a glimpse of the cover but I think I already know which one it is.

"Which one is it?" I ask as she heads back toward the couch.

"Only the best movie of all time." She holds the case out in front of me, beaming. I chuckle. Just as I had suspected: Jurassic Park. Her fascination with that movie still amazes me. Even though she knows the chances of something like Jurassic Park ever happening are zero, she hangs on to the notion with every fiber of her being. I think it's the cutest thing. She settles into my couch carefully and takes another sip of her tea before placing it back on the coffee table. I'm leaning against the left armrest, trying to get into a comfortable position when she slowly leans into me. I stop breathing as she snakes my arm around her, resting her head on my chest, sighing. I stare, stiff and wide eyed, at the main menu playing on the television screen. I can already feel her body heat through our clothes. The remote is a foot away from my right hand, on another small table bearing a reading lamp. I reach for it slowly and carefully, trying not to disturb the position I'm in. I finally reach it and shakily press the play button.

"You okay Josh? Your heart is beating a mile a minute." She lifts her head and looks up at me worriedly. I'm caught off guard by the question and search for something to say.

"Oh, uh yea –" I chuckle uneasily, "I just get excited when I watch Jurassic Park." I wince at how pathetic that sounds. She must be extremely tired because she accepts this with a smile and turns back to watch the opening credits. I take a few deep breaths and try not to think about how close together our bodies are. A few minutes pass and we're both silent, watching as Dr. Alan Grant gives a terrifying lecture on the hunting techniques of a Velociraptor to a skeptic 10 year old.

"I missed this." She sounds tired and wistful.

"Me too, I haven't watched this movie in a really long time. I almost forgot I had it." She shifts slightly but doesn't turn.

"No, I mean, being with you." My eyes widen and any words I might have thought to say are stuck in my throat, I swallow them down hard. A moment passes and she lifts her head to look up at me. She takes my silence as a chance to explain herself further.

"Sleeping over at your apartment; watching movies on your futon; staying up all night talking about dreams, making plans." I can see the sleep in her eyes and hear it in her voice, but there's something else there too; a weary longing for a time that has long passed. I smile gently. She sits up and slowly reaches for her mug, taking a long sip. The parts of me she was laying on get cold instantly and I want to pull her back into me.

"I missed it too." My throat feels dry and I reach for my own mug of tea. She takes another sip of her tea and looks at me.

"We had so much fun together," she says, smiling at me over the rim of her mug.

"I know." We're looking at each other but I know our thoughts are somewhere else, clutching at a past half forgotten. Her eyes drop to her mug briefly before she looks back to me. I can almost hear the seriousness of her tone before she speaks.

"Why did we stop being friends?" She rests the cup back on the coffee table. I exhale deeply. I want to ask her the same question but I can tell she's longing for my response, as though the answer to her question will make up for the years that we've lost.

"You moved to Australia, Maddie." I can hear it in my tone: the hint of blame. She hears it too.

"Why didn't you stop me?" Her eyes beg me for an honest answer and it takes everything I have to stop myself from imploding. My expression is one of thoughtful remorse. I open my mouth to reply but nothing comes out. I swallow hard and try again.

"I- I didn't know you wanted me to." My voice is a hushed whisper.

"I did." She's looking at me through those bright blue eyes and all I want to do is find a functioning flux capacitor, procure the necessary 1.21 gigawatts of electricity and travel back in time to that dreaded August afternoon. I feel like such a fool. If only I had known how easy it was to make her stay, all I had to do was say the word. Well, maybe it wouldn't have been that easy, but I could have tried. The feel of her hand on my bicep halts my train of thought abruptly, causing all thoughts on board to crash into each other. I lose all of them in the wreckage. She speaks to me softly and with a diminutive smile.

"Do you know why I agreed to do this with you?" She retracts her hand and my entire arm tingles. I hadn't really had a chance to think about it between the elation and picking her up at the airport. I answer with silence.

"We were studying for our archeology finals in your bedroom, we had The Kinks playing in the background, do you remember that?" She asks. I do, clear as day. She was wearing a plain white T-shirt and short black denim shorts. I remember because every once in a while when she'd crawl along my bed toward my boom box and reach over to change the song, I'd catch a quick and alluring glimpse of her red lace panties. I'd be grinning foolishly as she turned back, and when she'd ask what I was smiling about I'd just shrug and plant my nose back into my textbook. I tried to remember conversations or snippets of dialogue but my mind couldn't retrieve any. Again she takes my silence as a cue to continue.

"We talked about never getting real jobs and just traveling the world, conducting our own digs and investigations; about how amazing it would be." My jaw drops in sudden recollection.

"Then I said you'd never make it out there in the wilderness and you punched me," I finish the rest of the memory with a chuckle as she smiles at me.

"I think this is a good idea. It's exactly what we wanted. Even better, we're looking for monsters." Her eyes light up as she verbalizes the last word. I smile. She yawns, leaning into me again and I carefully drape my arm around her. We both shift into a comfortable position and there's a moment of silence as John Hammond and Dr. Ian Malcolm bicker about abusing the power of creation. She speaks softly.

"I don't want to lose you again Josh, you're the best friend I've ever had." I swallow a knot in my throat as my heart recovers from the blow. I try to gleam with pride at the thought of how important I am to her but there is something in the way she says the word friend; so definitive, so conclusive. As if friend is the end of the line. My heart sinks to the pit of my stomach and I watch the rest of the movie in dejected silence.

I wake slowly and my heart skips a beat as I remember where I am. I rub the sleep out of my eyes with my knuckles and blink a few times to clear my vision. Madison's head is resting lightly on my lap, her chest rising and falling slowly with every breath. She looks so peaceful in her sleep and I wonder where she goes when her eyes close, and whether she would take me with her if she could. I glance at my watch: it's 12:30 A.M, I must have nodded off sometime after the lawyer makes the mistake of running off into the bathroom and gets eaten with his pants around his ankles. I shift my weight carefully and snake out from beneath her. I pause to make sure the movement hasn't disturbed her before lifting her gently into my arms. She stirs briefly but doesn't wake. She seems so small in my arms, so precious; so delicate. I reach my bedroom door and bring her in, placing her in the middle of the bed as gently as I can. I pull the covers over her. Moonlight streams through the blinds and dances across her face. I reach down and brush a tress of hair behind her ear, lingering at her earlobe. She's so soft. I take a deep breath and adjust the blanket.

"Goodnight, Maddie." I turn to leave with a dull sadness humming in my chest. Her voice, faint and misty, calls through the black silence.

"Josh?" I stop cold in my tracks and turn back.

"Yes?" She stirs, turning to face me.

"Can you stay here with me tonight?" I'm scared, walking slowly and cautiously back toward the bed. I swallow.

"Of course," I whisper, climbing onto the bed over the covers. I lie beside her and she turns to me with closed eyes.

"Thank you." She smiles and within seconds she's fast asleep again. I stare at my ceiling through the darkness as thoughts fill my mind. I try to imagine which would hurt more: living life without her or with her as my best friend, having her close enough to kiss and touch, never being able to do either. She moves closer to me, reaching out to touch my arm. I watch her smile in her sleep and I dismiss all my negative thoughts. I'm lying in bed with a beautiful woman, and next week we're going to be exploring the world in search of monsters. This is going to be perfect.


	5. Pancakes

I'm sorry this story is taking so long. I've been super busy but I'm going to try my best to finish it in a timely fashion. Thank you to everyone who's expressed interest in it, I really appreciate the reviews.

P.s - I've recently become obsessed with The Big Bang Theory and Rookie Blue, so another fic might be in the works soon.

Enjoy!

**LOS ANGELES**

**7:36 A.M**

I stir awake, opening my eyes slowly. Sunlight spills through the open window and I squint away from it. I turn to my right, finding nothing but a pillow, freshly fluffed, sitting neatly next to me. I prop myself up on my elbows and listen to the faint hum of music coming from the kitchen. A wave of hunger suddenly washes over me and it's only now that I notice the sweet smell of pancakes wafting through the air. I smile groggily to myself and climb out of bed, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes with a yawn. She used to do the same thing back when we were in school together. She'd manage to wake up before me and make us a whole bunch of pancakes. I had almost forgotten about it. I glance down at my wrinkled shirt; I can't remember the last time I fell asleep with my clothes on. Running a hand through my short hair, I reach into my drawer for a fresh shirt and change into it quickly. The smell is even stronger when I open the door and I walk toward the kitchen slowly and quietly. She stands with her back to me, pouring pancake batter onto the pan. The box of Betty Crocker pancake mix sits on the counter beside the milk jug and an open egg carton containing only a few empty shells. I lean against the doorframe with my arms crossed and watch her for a moment. Her hair is up in a messy bun and she's wearing a white tank top with black, baggy sweatpants; she must have changed into them this morning. She sways back and forth gently, tapping her foot in time with the song on the radio. I smile before clearing my throat to announce my presence. She glances over her shoulder with a smile. I melt.

"Hey, you're up." She turns back to the pan and examines one of the pancakes before flipping it carefully. I walk toward the counter and pull two plates out of the cupboard.

"You haven't changed a bit," I say with a smile as she flips another pancake. She smirks.

"Is that so?" I reach for two glasses and pull them out. She examines another two pancakes and flips them too. I walk to the small rectangular table in the left corner of the room and set the plates and cups down accordingly.

"You didn't have to do this though Maddie, I was going to make you breakfast. You're the guest, that's how it works." I lean against the table as she pulls two shiny forks and knives out of the drawer. She walks toward me.

"Well then," she says as she places one set of cutlery beside the plate closest to her. She leans into me slowly, reaching toward the plate behind me, "I guess you'll just have to make it up to me somehow." She drops the fork and knife beside the other plate. Her face is inches from mine, turned up toward me. Her proximity stops my breathing. She's so close I can feel her thigh against mine. Her hip brushes against me lightly and all I want to do is scoop her up onto the countertop and take her right now. She smirks and steps away, back toward the pancakes. I exhale silently and try to regain my composure quickly before she can turn around again. She is so tantalizing; enticing me with what we both know I can't have and as much as I hate it, I don't want her to stop.

"And h-how should I do that, exactly?" I ask, scratching the back of my head with a nervous smile.

"You'll figure something out." She says over her shoulder before flipping the final pancake. She turns to me.

"Go long." She's smiling and I have no idea what she means.

"What?" I ask. She picks up a pancake with the spatula and nods toward the table. It finally clicks. I chuckle and grab one of the plates.

"What are you doing?" I ask the question but I know exactly what she's up to.

"Come on, we used to do this all the time. You ready?" She balances the pancake carefully on the spatula as I walk out into the living room and face the kitchen doorway. I never thought I'd be doing this again. I take the moment in, it's just like it used to be. I smile. After seven years we have somehow managed to pick up exactly where we left off, we have fallen back into place, into what we were, as though we had never left it behind. I hold the plate out in front of me and nod.

"I'm ready."

She snorts and flicks the pancake toward me. I step forward and stretch out to catch it. It lands in the middle of my plate. The point is to catch all of the pancakes without dropping a single one. She smiles and grabs another one. Of course, she likes to make it harder with her intentionally wayward pitching. This one hurtles to the left and I leap sideways to catch it. We're both laughing as she flings another past me and I jump backward, bringing the plate up to my chest to catch it. We're on the final one and we stare each other down.

"I don't think you're ready for this, Gates." She glares at me before cracking a smile.

"Try me." She gestures as though she's going to lob it hard across the room and I fall for it, stepping backward quickly. She tosses it lightly in front of her and I lunge forward, plate extended at arm's length in front of me. It lands right on the edge of the plate and teeters back and forth uncertainly. I straighten up slowly and carefully but the pancake makes up its mind and falls freely to the floor. Madison snickers before turning back to pour more mix onto the pan.

"You're eating that one."

We spend the next half hour laughing and talking about the adventures ahead over fresh coffee and forkfuls of maple syrup covered pancakes.

"Have you guys decided what we're doing first?" She asks before taking the last sip of her coffee. I shake my head.

"We have some ideas but nothing official, we wanted to wait until we had the whole team together before making any final decisions."

"That's very considerate." I see a smile crawl onto her lips as she gets up and gathers her dish and utensils.

"Here Maddie, let me do the dishes. You made breakfast, it's only fair." I quickly get up and gently take the plate from her, our hands touching momentarily in the exchange. She looks up toward me as she pulls her hand back. There's something in her eyes that I can't quite place.

"Thank you. I'm going to get ready. We're meeting everybody at 2:00 o'clock right?" She asks, pausing in the kitchen doorway briefly.

"Yup. You nervous?" I tease, placing the dirty dish in the sink.

"I'm never nervous," she replies with a smirk as she turns toward the stairs and out of sight. I collect the rest of the dishes into the sink and run warm water over them as I dollop Sunlight dish soap onto my green sponge and lather. I scrub each plate carefully and deliberately as I replay the events of the night before in my mind. At one point in the middle of the night I awoke without any apparent reason and turned to face her. It still hadn't sunk in; the best friend I thought I'd lost was back in my life. She was fast asleep, and even through the darkness I could see a smile on her lips. So I watched her - with a smile of my own planted on my face – in a beautiful silence as her chest rose and fell softly with every breath. I remember yearning so badly to reach out and touch her face; kiss her body, but the word 'friend' seemed to echo over and over again in my mind. It is going to take everything I have not to fall in love with her. I look into the sink filled with suds and begin rinsing everything off slowly before placing the dishes onto the rack to dry. I glance around the room looking for anything out of place that I can tidy to take my mind off the noise in my head, but everything is already clean and neat. I take a deep breath and push the thoughts aside, replacing them with ones more comforting to me: monsters and cryptids. Lost in thoughts of far away places and strange creatures I begin to make my way toward my bedroom to pick out my clothes for the day. I reach for the knob and open the door absentmindedly. Immediately my eyes land on beautiful sun kissed bare skin. My breath catches in my throat; she didn't hear me come in. She has her back to me, standing at the end of my bed, suitcase stretched open beside her, hair cascading down her back in damp, messy waves. My heart almost stops completely; she is slowly pulling her purple panties into place when she turns to retrieve her matching bra from the bed next to her. A wave of excitement washes over me and I'm blessed with a quick and alluring glimpse of the side of her left breast. I want to move and get out before my heart bursts out of my chest but just as I try to pry my feet from the floor she looks up to find me standing wide eyed and salivating in the middle of the doorway, jaw on the floor and hand glued pathetically to the doorknob. She gasps lightly and turns her body away from me, reaching instinctively to cover her chest with her arms. All the blood rushes quickly to two distinct places on my body, one of which is thankfully out of sight. I try to form syllables into some sort of an apology but my entire body is focused on hers.

"O- I'm – I –" I manage nothing more than a pathetic stutter. Her skin looks so soft and dewy; I want nothing more than to reach out and touch her. I feel my face burn and there is a tingling numbness in my extremities. I feel stupid and perverted but still I can't move. She watches me from over her shoulder for a moment in silence as I stand in the doorway beet red and motionless before a smile slowly curls onto her lips.

"Well if you're going to stay a while, do you mind passing me that shirt over there?" With one arm still covering her breasts she motions toward my dresser with the other. My heartbeat hums rapidly in my chest and though I didn't think it was possible my face turns an even brighter shade of red.

"Y-yea, of course." Words finally seem to come back to me. I reach next to me and grab a neatly folded canary yellow shirt from atop my dresser and gingerly take a few steps toward her, handing her the shirt. I stand in front of her, my expression apologetic and flushed with embarrassment. She takes the shirt from my trembling hand.

"I am so sorry," I verbalize each word slowly and carefully in an attempt to convey the true depth of my apology. She simply chuckles and turns away from me as she puts her bra on, clasping the hook effortlessly behind her. I shut my eyes and burry my face in my hands, wincing at my stupidity. Way to go Josh. Bra and panties securely in place, she turns back to me.

"What did you see?" My eyes widen.

"Oh – I –n-nothing. I –" I stammer my response and she smirks in that way that makes me feel like a child.

"Good. I don't have to kill you then." She flicks her eyebrows and smiles as she puts her yellow shirt on. I chuckle lightly and relax a little as I head for the door.

"So does this mean I get to walk in on you in the shower?" She teases, reaching into her suitcase to retrieve a pair of dark denim jeans. I chuckle and shake my head as I leave the room. She hasn't changed a bit.


End file.
